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Thursday, January 19, 2012

Thirty-one, I think, is going to be copacetic. Even though it might not seem this way from the last post, birthdays are my very very super favorite thing other than costume parties, puppies, and John McClane, but I decided to keep shit low-key and hyphenated this year: Bingo at the neighborhood church on Friday, live band karaoke on Saturday, Wu-Tang on Sunday. Hot damn I am awesome, even in my wrinkled old age.

Everyone won Bingo except for me, which sounds about right. I am completely addicted. At LBK I had to call an ambulance after some twenty-one-year-old cretins beat the shit out of a hapless smoker on the sidewalk in front of the bar. He looked at them sideways, and they threw him into a parked car and stomped all over him, and then all these people on the street started yelling, "Go back to Wrigleyville!" and they ran away, which is relevant for the following thirty-one reasons:

fist-fights don't happen there EVER

even the bouncer attested to that

therefore: Wrigleyville = accurate assumption

frat-tastic chads are officially moving in on the bars I frequent

I go to certain bars specifically to avoid those guys

since hipster fashion is now the preppy norm, there is no way to distinguish elitists from pricks, and previously I engaged both sets differently

I'm fairly mediocre-looking, so even when I'm just waiting for a beer and in light conversation, once it becomes evident that I am much more clever than the hipster/chad, it behooves me to determine in advance whether he is going to accuse me of being an uptight bitch (hipsters) or a lesbian (chads), so I can scoff him appropriately.

those are the only "insults" they know

(men rarely insult beautiful women to their faces)

but this happens to me whenever I say something as simple as "no thanks" or as complex as "no I will not go down on you in the alley behind the dumpster because I am not your roadwhore"

when insecure guys come face-to-face with a less-than-beautiful girl who doesn't fawn and giggle over their superior manliness, they get angry because they are obviously doing me a favor by speaking to me in the first place

(50% of guys are very pleasant and not at all douchey)

I tend to start a conversation with whoever is next to me as long as they aren't engaged in a conversation themselves just because I like talking to people until they start sucking

and it's like, if you all stopped being fucking sexist manbaby-coddlebunnies, maybe you could have a conversation instead of getting angry at me for not buying your bullshit

But no, women who don't stroke your ego are controlling bitches.

I am sure that ego-stroking has something to do with penises

I will stroke your ego if you deserve it.

(Penis)

Mad Libs?

So this guy at trivia night (I know, I know, I went to a trivia night last week as well. Who the fuck am I and what have we done with the real Rassles and what's with all the digression [you love it and you find me coy]) who is a friend of a friend was angry that I "took over" trivia night.

His only reasoning for this was the fact that I am awesome at trivia.

Now, if I didn't know the answer to a question, I left it to the table and threw in ideas when no one else knew either. But if I knew the answer then he was all "but HOW do you KNOW that?" even when he didn't know the answer, and I was like, "Why you bitchin, handsome? The Decameron is the Ten Commandments. THAT IS WHAT IT IS. This isn't fucking rocket surgery. No, I don't need to think about it. I haven't been wrong yet. No reason to get all testy-twisted. I accept your answers when you're sure of them. If I was a man, this wouldn't be an issue. We would have fist-bumped, and you probably would have been all, we need to team up all the time bro, no homo."

This is why I don't play trivia with strangers.

He proved to be the type of guy that would put his arm around his adorable little blonde girlfriend and say, "Yeah, my brains are rubbing off on her. She gets cooler every day." I know he's the type because he actually did that. He actually did that with complete sincerity and without any sense of deprecation or irony, and his girlfriend actually looked proud.

His girlfriend actually answered way more questions than he did, but she did it by consulting him first for his approval. If he didn't like her answer, she wouldn't tell the rest of the team what it was.

Then he started ragging on the announcer because he sounded like a 'gay theater guy. it's cool if he's gay, I mean, you know, but do you have to be so obvious?'

DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO OBVIOUSLY STRAIGHT?

So then I did that thing where my heart grows a swampland because I don't care how handsome you are anymore. I don't care that your pouting was kind of adorable.

You are now my property, and you will live in the gator-infested swampland of my heart and you will hate it there because you're a pig, and gators eat the fuck out of swine. I can still feel them inside. Chomping away.

I need something to fight, I think.

whatever, it was my birthday week, I did what I want

So anyway, the LBK band asked that I take a tip jar around the bar for them, and I made Schmee come with me because she's gorgeous and people are always more likely give money to beautiful women (for the record, she is also smart and funny, but Emi is the smart one and I am the funny one and Schmee is the pretty one and that's the way it is, Schmee, so stop complaining). And these guys were mean to Schmee when she was all pretty and approachable-looking, so you know they were assholes. One of them goes, "I don't have any money, I'm twenty-one. Plus I give like $90 a month to charity." And then Schmee said, "so how did you afford that round of shots? Why are you at a bar that charges $5 a beer if you can't cough a dollar up for the band you came to see?"

He could have just said "no" and we would have thanked him and walked away, like we did with the other people in the bar that didn't spend all their time acting like an infected foot.

And then like twenty minutes later they beat the shit out of a guy and I called the cops and an ambulance. Victim guy was okay. Oh! and Schmee gave the cops the evidence they needed to catch the gutless bastards that ran away. Well done, Schmee.

In other news, Wu-Tang is the old-ass Led Zeppelin of hip-hop. The only one who's got any energy left is Method Man and the rest of them just politely towel each others' foreheads and shout, "Make monay monay, make monay monay monay!" and I'm all, "Dude. You're like forty" which is what I think about everyone older than I am between the ages of thirty-six and seventy.

Also, I've started reading US state maps in the bathroom. I've been collecting them for years (MoLinder and I wallpapered a room once, but they've since been taken down, refolded, and stashed in the bathroom) and since I have no road trips planned, I'm just memorizing them so when I DO go on a road trip I can be all "BOOYAH. Suck it, GPS."

15 comments:

I also rock the trivia, and am also quite strident when I'm fuckinf SURE about it... So I avoid trivia nights. But there's a local group of atheists who are recruiting me for their atheist ass kicker team...

An astute observation of the state of hipster/chads, which means Madison ave. has sold the kids what they (Mad Ave) want, hence another subculture has been absorbed into mass culture, soon My Bloody Valentine shirts will be turning up in Goodwill's everywhere... and whatz you gots against using tons of commas? i'm like King Comma Motherfucker, you know.

I think this might have been my favorite post of yours yet. Mostly because it mentions douchebag assholes who aren't nice to less-than-beautiful girls (you and I should start a club or something - is that still cool? starting a club? probably not), and also trivia, at which I am also a rockstar. But I actually enjoy playing it with friends, but not with strangers, for the same reasons you posited.

You would have loved my championship bar trivia team. Core team of four girls, two guys. A balanced squad that covered each others' weak spots, like a good team should. I miss pub quiz, but I love krav maga and mixed martial arts more.

My birthday is next Saturday and I'm going to be all Tag Larkin with my evening.

Few things. I had a great-aunt named Coy, and she didn't brook no foolishness either. Also you are not mediocre looking, but I think I get why you feel that way. Happy Birthday. See how many states you find U.S. 65 runs through.

"when insecure guys come face-to-face with a less-than-beautiful girl who doesn't fawn and giggle over their superior manliness, they get angry because they are obviously doing me a favor by speaking to me in the first place"

Say something

So, I have a tendency to start sentences with, "So, I have a tendency…” Sometimes I go places, wander off, get lost, and find my way back without realizing I was lost in the first place. And then everyone's all, "where've you been?" and I'm all, "I dunno, over there somewhere." Sometimes I skip breakfast and regret it later.